The Worst Christmas

It was the worst Christmas of my life, and I was only 11 years old. 

The Stream of Life

 

Some called me reckless, they said Jacob was too young to fish on the river. I could have heeded their warning…I’m grateful I didn’t.

Scars

Never before had words passed from fingertip to keyboard with such ease—or had my thoughts been so vividly articulated and carried such intense feeling. My poetic choice of words continually filled the screen at the top line of the first paragraph. Upon reaching the end of that line, they fell off the edge, cascading down the margin and plunging into a pool of floating letters at the bottom of the page.

Six Months a Griever

I read a blog the other day. . .

This woman wrote that her husband had died six months ago and now that she has completely recovered from her grief she is ready to take what she’s learned and teach others how to get back up on their feet.

Six months?

Beyond the Deluge

It’s probably just me, but I don’t recall seeing the sunshine while coping with the worst of my grief. Days seemed chronically cold and dreary, the air was almost too thick to breath. I couldn’t seem to focus on anything that wasn’t held in my hand. Nights were long and restless, interrupted by the reoccurring nightmares that made the thought of returning to my pillow truly unappealing.

Brokenness

Photo credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/zenonline/3365196275/

Are people who possess a strong faith immune to brokenness? Can one really find joy in EVERYTHING? Or is brokenness the best kept secret in the church today?

My Addiction

I just can’t stop myself. The allure of momentary pleasure is far more than I can resist.

In the Wake of the Edmund Fitzgerald

On November 10, 1975 the Great Lakes freighter, SS Edmund Fitzgerald was caught in the midst of a severe winter storm on Lake Superior. With near hurricane-force winds and waves up to 35 feet high, the Fitzgerald sank in waters 530 feet deep, approximately 17 miles from the entrance to Whitefish Bay.  Her crew of 29 all perished, and the bodies were never recovered.

Turn the Page

There are so few people that I know today who actually knew my son Jacob. Some  people ask about him and I’m happy to tell them Jake stories, but what I really long for is to hear stories about him.